


Arriving Headlong

by lferion



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Babies, Challenge Response, Drabble, Drabble Sequence, Elves, F/M, Family Feels, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Prompt Fic, SWG Challenge: Block Party, Tumblr: legendariumladiesapril, Valinor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:08:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23898004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lferion/pseuds/lferion
Summary: Findekano arrives in the world: a drabble set.
Relationships: Anairë & Nerdanel (Tolkien), Anairë/Fingolfin | Ñolofinwë, Fingolfin | Ñolofinwë & Fingon | Findekáno, Fingon & Nerdanel, Fëanor | Curufinwë/Nerdanel
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17
Collections: Drabbling in Middle-Earth, Legendarium Ladies April 2020





	Arriving Headlong

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Silmarillion Writers Guild Block Party challenge, April 19th prompt 'Legendarium Ladies April'. I chose LLA day 3, Women at their Jobs, though this has wandered somewhat from there. It also fits the Block Party May 9th prompt 'Moms'. Posted on the SWG archive [here](http://www.silmarillionwritersguild.org/archive/home/viewstory.php?sid=4418).
> 
> The first drabble, which set the atmosphere for the set, was prompted by Morgynleri with: Fingolfin, Fragile, Place.
> 
> Many thanks to Morgynleri and Runa, for encouragement and sanity-checking.

* * *

When Este's maia placed Nolofinwe's firstborn in his arms, all he could think of was how tiny and fragile he was. Much smaller than Arafinwe or Irime, or any of Feanaro's three. Of course, Ara had been several hours in the world by the time Nolo had first seen him, and his nephews several days. And his smallest sister, near twin to this his son, he had not yet met. All the names he had been considering flew from his mind. As Nolo watched, his arms a careful cradle, the child opened his eyes, brilliant green, piercingly aware, utterly captivating.

A cap of dark hair graced his son's head, the points of his ears a miracle of delicacy. Nolo had been paying attention to Anaire, trusting the maia midwife and Nerdanel to catch the child. Catch him they had, as he rushed into the world, headlong, making a surprised cry at the suddenness of air in his lungs and all around him. Now Nolo was holding him, as they made Anaire comfortable, and his heart was so full he thought it must overflow with terror and delight for this so-small person, theirs to love and guide and help to grow. 

* * *

Nerdanel sat with her friend Anaire, as she rested, very tired after the Work of bringing her -- their, Anaire's and Nolo's -- child into the world. Nerdanel knew the effort involved very well, having carried three (so far: both she and Feanaro wanted more, but not quite yet. Let Tyelko grow a little into himself before adding another). Everyone was washed and swaddled, made comfortable, even fed. Nolo had the child now, (the child who, if Nerdanel was any judge at all, had already wrapped his father entirely around his so-tiny fingers, as was only to be expected, really), and it would be his turn to feed him next, a happy task he seemed quite ready for, judging by the swell of breast under his loose tunic. She was glad to see it. Anaire had worried, especially when her breasts had made an appearance quite early, but Nolo's had not. Not every ner could produce milk, not even some who very much wanted to. At least that worry was now assuaged. Anaire's soft breath told Nerdanel that she was asleep, the best thing for her now. She tucked the light blanket around her shoulders more snuggly. Food and comfort for all. 

* * *

Presently, the baby fell asleep, and Nolo let Nerdanel hold him. Then he sat down rather suddenly, looking as though he’d been hit over the head with something heavy. Nerdanel knew that look: Feanaro still got that expression sometimes, seeing their children. She’d even seen it on Maitimo’s face once or twice — the first time he’d held infant Makalaure, and again with Tyelko. She wondered what he would make of this little one. Much smaller than any of hers had been, but obviously perfectly formed, and eager to be born. “Welcome to the world, child,” she said quietly. “Well come.”

* * *


End file.
